


Unspoken

by nomenclature



Category: A Separate Peace - John Knowles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 08:02:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11144262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomenclature/pseuds/nomenclature
Summary: In which Gene enters the infirmary to be with Phineas.





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> The section before the black line is actual text from the novel and where my alternate scene/story begins.

"I'm sorry," I said blindly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I had just control enough to stay out of his room, to let him struggle back into the bed by himself.

 

* * *

 

I slid down the windowsill, dropping loudly against the stillness of the infirmary, the silence of Finny, head buried in shaking hands. I saw in slow motion a vision of those hands wrapping around my throat, clenched into fists, then outstretched, welcoming. I walked to him as though he might jump at me, cornered and desperate.

A tightness in my chest pulled me closer to his side, my legs brushing against the linen.

"Finny," I said his name like a question, a plea, so softly I had begun to wonder if perhaps the words had been a thought. I dared not touch him, fearing he would recoil and I would add to the damage in his heart.

I felt my face heat. I was the cause and reason to Finny's every pain. My roommate, my best friend, my Phineas.

The idea of him, smiling a conspirators smile being forever lost, was not one I could bare to imagine.

Phineas had stopped shaking and bore his green eyes, made dark in the low room light, deep into me. "What right do you have to cry?" His voice steady and bitter. The boyish quality that had drawn me to him lost on his tongue.

"I-I don't," It surprised me to hear his voice sound the way it had. It surprised me to hear the words and feel at that moment my hot tears and my throat, tight and constricting.

"No, you don't." His eyes drifted lost in emotion. "I won't hit you, and I am not going to yell at you."

I didn't understand, when before he possessed the fury to tear my soul apart. I wished he had.

"Why?" The wobble in my speech gone.

"It's what you want. You want the guilt to go away. Gene, it will never go away. I won't allow it." I had changed him, stripped him of all things good and light and, well, Finny.

He would hate me in silence, he didn't want me anymore. He did not know that I still needed him. I needed his rebellious laugh and impulsive creation, he made me whole. And I had broken him down. Down into someone nearly unrecognizable.

My body moved without thought, my arms wrapping around his head, brown hair in disarray from sleep. The night had gone on for a decade, from when we slept in our room, to the humorless trial, to Finny falling, betrayed again. I pulled him to my chest, my heartbeat to his ear, let him hear my soul, the terrible thoughts and honest love. He saw the good in me, the best, the me that existed only in his memories.

We stay frozen in shock, reluctance, and unsurety. I could not move, I refused to release my hold on him. Finny reached his arms around my torso, folding across my back, pulling me closer.

I then sat upon the cot, half his body wrapped in my embrace. One of his hands fisted the fabric of my shirt, as he gently hit me twice, a sob wreathed in anger and pain muffled into my sleepwear.

Hours might have passed, the hand on the clock making three full rounds, or perhaps it was truly in an instant in which our breathing matched and I felt the calm pull of sleep. The thin cot I had set myself on was far too small for two boys to sleep comfortably. I wanted to, I realized, embarrassed.

"Gene," His voice smooth, warm breath bleeding through the threads, seeping into my skin. We both knew I would do whatever Finny wanted of me. I would follow him on every adventure, if he so much as suggested I might.

"Don't leave me," We unfolded from our hold on one another. Finny laying back against his propped up pillows. He looked drained and pale, his cheeks were flush from pressing against my chest. I would stay. Of course I would. No bed of feathers, or sheets of the finest silk could tempt me away.

Phineas did not object when I pulled the lone stiff-back chair to the side of his temporary bed. He watched the way he always watched me, observing what, I was unaware of. I sat staring at my hands, not his eyes that watched or his leg that shattered then healed only to break once more, clean this time.

Finny was right, I would always feel guilty, my fear and jealousy were dictators at war. I had to fight them off until one day I won. I would never forget what I did to him, and neither would he. It would constantly be there, between us, its roots threatening to push us further apart. I thought that if we stayed just close enough then the roots might grow around us, a vivid reminder of the past and what would never, I mean that, never happen again.

"Gene," That voice again. Like a song, no other sounded quite so musical. Phineas was the only like him. A rarity among men and angels.

He held is hand out, resting on the bed palm up. I placed my hand on his, unsure if he had wanted this. It was a game, to decipher each and every meaning to Finny's many actions. He closed his fingers over mine. Then brought my hand to his face, cupping it against his cheek. Finny's eyes closed, leaning into the touch, then intertwined our fingers and settled for sleep.

I watched him for a while, taking in the sight of him whole and at rest. A boy with dreams and wants and a clouded future ahead. I would help him. In any and every way I could possibly manage. He'd undoubtedly sit out the war, if there was a war to sit out. I knew Finny would be up and moving long before any doctor thought possible. That's what Finny did. That's who he was. I lay my head down by our converged hands, a promise, we would never separate.


End file.
